


Set the World Spinning

by batterwitch_dumb_basses



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Godstuck, Multi, New Universe, Parties, cute shippy moments, godly powers, roxy has a cult, they're all gods, trollio kart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 20:47:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3332621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batterwitch_dumb_basses/pseuds/batterwitch_dumb_basses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"As civilisations rose and fell around them, they began to accept that their immortality meant they could only be one thing – some were indifferent, some were distraught that they had become these things thanks to a simple game."<br/>The alpha and beta kids and trolls became the gods over the new world, eventually creating sixteen main cities. John, the leader of the 'gods', has decreed they all need new priests and priestesses, who will become the next Pantheon of Gods, and everyone is rushing to find their own new Descending, as the 'holy children' are dubbed. However, centuries ago, Eridan and Sollux broke up, and Eridan slowly became more reclusive until a hundred years ago when he vanished, instead staying hidden by Cronus, who he seems to have become involved with - but what secrets are being hidden? And how will Sollux fix things between them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**The world spins on, and we stand still, even though time is optional**

**And yet we play at chess, as we always have.**

**Give your pawns to me. I shall destroy them. Then you may try again.**

\- _Early poem, found carved into the stone of an ancient temple_.

In this new universe, there was plenty to see. Plenty to explore, and plenty that never would be seen. They’d found that individually pretty quickly, climbing over the terrain.  
They'd arrived, scattering after a few short months of trying to stay together. Things had been changing. As they did not age, they wondered for a while what was happening. As civilisations rose and fell around them, they began to accept that their immortality meant they could only be one thing – some were indifferent, some were distraught that they had become these things thanks to a simple game. Over the years, they took up their roles, and worked together rarely but effectively.  
It began to finalise itself, to unite under their direction. The country-like cities grew up - Crimson, Rust, Bronze, Golden, Hunt, Jade, Balance, Sapphire, Equine, Carnival, Amethyst, Tyrian, Gambit, Fire, Quartz and Emerald. Two patron gods for each city.  
Thirty-two gods reigned over the new world.

====>

A small house in the middle of the innermost circle of the Golden City was home to a small family and an argument that could tear them apart with desperate finality.  
“We have to take her to the Temple of the Elder Gemini!” a troll woman shouted at her matesprit, who wailed a little and clutched her child – barely four sweeps – to her.  
“She just….she just…gets upset, that’s all! Marrae, please!” she protested, and the child struggled against her. The first woman looked down at the skinny tealblood child. Her child. They’d known since she was a grub that this was true, but denying it and her placement would surely only anger the gods.  
“Metisa’s psionics don’t work, Eikino. She isn’t a grub anymore. She should have been taken when she was a grub…I’m sorry.” She touched her arm to show her apology. “She isn’t….They will never work without prayer, and maybe another temple – maybe the Temple of the Reviver, or the Temple of the Braided, or the Temple of the Heiress or any of the Life Temples could aid her, but in the service of the Elder Gemini _she will be taken care of_. How many things has she set fire to already?”  
Eikino wailed loudly, but Metisa walked over to take Marrae’s hand, and nodded. “I will serve the gods as best as I can,” the little voice piped, and Marrae could have sworn at that moment that she heard her own blood pusher break in two. Most trolls and humans chose a god to serve at this age or older, and then they would spend a year in the temple before returning to their hives with the symbol of their god, and served that god for the rest of their life. Marrae served the Justice, while her matesprit served the Heiress.  
But those who had to be protected went to the temple for life. They stayed there and their quadrants would usually be those inside the temple – in other words, she would never see her little wriggled again unless she was cured, and the chances of that were obvious. Pale violet tears began to slip down her cheeks as she hugged the little girl, whose one vertical horn nudged as it always did against her jaw. She wouldn’t see her grow much taller. Eikino’s arms wrapped around them both and the hum of her working psionics filled the air as a blanket wrapped around the small family, huddled together for what could be the last time.

====>

A few days later, arrangements having been made with the temple, two cloaked figures stood inside the Temple of the Elder Gemini in the main part of the City. Marrae drew her own ‘anonymity’ cloak further over her face, the grey material hiding the amethyst ‘Libra’ sign on the silver chain around her neck as she took her child by the hand towards a small carved door. Metisa looked around with interest at the sweeping lines of red and blue that crossed the temple like lightning scars, and at the black robes threaded at the edges with gold that the devotees around them wore. A human woman in gold robes walked over to them, tilting her head.  
“You are Metisa Joulin?” she asked the child, who nodded, teal sparks running down her arms as she began to panic slightly. Marrae held her close, quieting her for a minute, and then the human woman took Metisa by the hand.  
“I quite see…Hers are like the Elder’s, He Who Protects, the Stormbringer, the Self-Wrecker. It will be an honour to care for your child.” Her eyes stared straight into Marrae’s, and Marrae nodded, purple tears gathering in her eyes as Metisa was led behind the door.

====>

Metisa kicked her legs as she sat on the little chair in the room where the lady had led her, saying that it was a test. Of what, she hadn’t been told, and it annoyed her immensely. Mommy had taken her away from Mama, and then the human lady had taken her away from Mommy. She wouldn’t see them again, probably, and if she hadn’t cried over it already, she would be screaming and wailing. But it might be a test to see how well she could sit still. Her psionics had burned a few holes in her cloak already, so the lady would be cross, and then she might tell Mommy and Mama…  
A hand landed on her shoulder. “Hey, lil’ girl! What’s up?”  
This lady was wearing an ‘anonymity’ cloak as well, and her horns were pretty and straight. The slight tone to her skin, and the colour of her tongue tipped Metisa off to the fact that she was also a tealblood – like Mama. It was comforting, and she smiled a little at the woman.  
“I’m stayin’ here…They said I have to go through a test.”  
“Aw, sucks! Bet you’re gonna pass straight through, though! What’s your name?” The woman’s hair covered her eyes, but her smile was kind. Metisa fidgeted.  
“Metisa. Metisa Joulin…”  
“No way! A Joulin? Man, I think my lil’ sister knows your mom, then!” She grinned. “Small world! So, Eikino’s your mom, right?”  
Metisa smiled, but shook her head. “No, she’s my mama…What’s your name?”  
“Aw, that’s a secret…Hey, babe! Where’ve you been?” The woman turned to the door, and a second later a man – or a boy, around the same age as the woman, who could perhaps be eight sweeps or something along those lines – walked through the door. His cloak was a gentle gold, his hair fluffy over his set of double horns, and his eyes were also hidden by his hair. His smile was wide and kind, but the sharpness of it made it seem almost wicked.  
“Hey!” His voice sounded strange, but he grinned wide at Metisa. “You’re….fuck….I know, I know, Tulip!” He turned towards the woman, quite obviously agitated, and then he looked at the burnt parts of Metisa’s cloak, which made her feel ashamed. “Right! New girl! Awethome!” He hugged her heavily, and she nearly fell off the chair, but hugged him back, a warm feeling surrounding her. Her psionics crackled around them, and blue and red energy crackled against her own, just as broken up as hers had always been. Her eyes went wide at the feel of a similar energy, and the woman smiled at them both.  
“Aw, is she a lil’ bee too? Great! She’ll have a good time here!” She pressed a gentle kiss to the man’s forehead, and the two shared a gentle smile.  
And then the room was empty, the little lines of energy vanished. Metisa gaped, and a tiny weight in her lap caused her to look down, seeing twelve or so bees asleep there. She felt suddenly very calm, despite everything, and then the door opened – on the other side of the room. Where the man had entered, there was no door, just a wall with a golden sweeping Gemini symbol. There hadn’t even been a door there in the first place…  
The human woman looked down at the bees in her lap, and back up at Metisa before she fell to her knees, shock clear on her face.  
“You are blessed, you are truly a child of the gods! Hail to thee!” she wailed, and the bees woke up, buzzing around Metisa’s horns, as teal sparks began to run up and down the chair as the girl panicked.  
“Wh-what—“  
“The Self-Wrecker has blessed you! The Elder Dragonborn has been in your presence! Our Lady of Libra, she who is his love has …The Gods, child! That is your test, to have the gods visit you, to give blessing. No-one usually passes this…”  
She hurried the child away, the bees following behind. “That was the Sanctuary, child. Only the gods can enter when the door is locked – and only I have the key. We shall see about a hive – a traditional one, of course – for these creatures.” A bee moved to rest on Metisa’s curved horn, and the others began to follow suit, although a few kept flying. Somehow, they made her feel better, as though they were looking after her.

====>

Mituna kissed Latula happily. “ ’Nother bee! Thee, told you! I know who the kid ith!” He laughed, and a swarm of bees momentarily swirled around them. Latula smiled at him and left a black lipstick mark on his cheek.  
“That’s fantastic, babe! She’s adorable, just like lil’ me…So, you going to make her your high priestess or your Descending?”  
“Dethending! The’ll live twithe ath long and then the’ll be…an…uh….what’th it called….fuck….” Mituna lost his smile, scratching at his head as he tried to think of the word. “Uh….fuck! I know thith!”  
“S’either demigod or saint, babe. Or minor god, maybe? Wow!!! You really like her!” Latula wrapped her arms around him, kissing his cheek. Mituna grinned widely again, hands shaking as he held them up.  
“Minor god! That’th the fucker! But thhe hath to live out the life, firtht! Cauthe thtupid Wind and Thhade thaid we got to choothe thome now!” He pouted, and Latula blinked.  
“What? Jo-Bert? Seriously, he needs to calm down on his powers…But looks like Damz might have arranged her birth….”  
“Thtupid bitchy Megido….” Mituna muttered, frowning, before another kiss to the cheek calmed him.  
“Don’t you worry, babe, she probs meant well by it. You know she’s been behaving herself lately…Anyway, you like the kid, yeah?”  
“Yeah! Thhe’th gonna be Goddethh of Beeth! Or more awethome thhit!” Mituna grinned wide again. “C’mon, Tulip! Let’th go tell Loth!”  
“Sure thing, babe!”

====>

As Metisa had been chosen by Mituna as a minor goddess, another god was watching her, red-painted eyes narrowed as she glared into the red crystal. It had been her who had arranged the meeting of Marrae and Eikino, but the psionics had gone wrong somewhere in the breeding, and now Damara had needed to give up that particular child to another god.  
Never mind. She had several reserves. Mituna was not the only god who could have children dedicated to him. If it had not been for the instant placement of Metisa under Mituna and therefore Latula’s protection at birth, Damara would have had a new High Priestess for her Inner Order, once she had the child speaking her language.  
Ah well. She had made sure that there were other options…  
And this guy, again! She rolled her eyes at him as he pushed aside the red cloth that covered the entrance to the cave.  
“Sup, babe. Vwhat you up to here?” Cronus peered into the gloom, trying to spot Damara. She hissed at her kismesis, covering up the crystal in front of her with a cloth. Like he would ever try to speak her language…  
“Nothing. You not welcome. Go away.”  
The Hopeweaver smiled at her, showing off his sharp teeth. “Aw, don’t be like that…You knowv, cahoots sounds fun to me. Vwhat are you actually doing? Messing vwith fate?”  
“Do not talk of things you do not know of. I am Fate, here on this world. Go, before I destroy your city with a whim.” His arms slid around her shoulders, and she knew he was grinning that wide, awful smile.  
“Oh, you’re so harsh….Fine, but I’m at least tellin’ the others you’re up to somethin’ nasty an’vwicious.” He pressed a mocking kiss to her cheek and was gone, faint gold dust in the air the only sign he had ever been there at all.  
Asshole. Damara clicked her fingers, the surroundings changing as she appeared five years in the past. Now, to check on her other projects….

====>

A girl with blonde hair and white robes stood in a shimmering hall of light, smiling as she saw Damara –dressed lightly, to put it nicely – appear in an inn five years ago, watching a couple sitting happily in the corner, chattering away. So she was arranging things again? How very predictable. Rose always had managed to get along with Damara, with them both seeing what was happening almost everywhere. She had very early on bestowed her with the red crystal that Damara used to watch over people, as Damara could be trusted to be discreet.  
She looked up as floating pink material caught her eye, and saw her….mother? Daughter? Ectobiology had never been too clear on that point. Roxy skipped up to her, a glass of something fruity and fizzy in hand.  
“Rosey! Rosey, did you hear what Mituna’s done? Or see?”  
“Well, yes, I did. John did say we needed to involve ourselves this era more than before….My High Priest wants to retire, after all. I might as well grant his wishes.” Indeed the troll was old, although he had quite a few sweeps left ahead of him. In the two sweeps left of service that Rose had planned for him, he could raise up a successor - and Damara had probably arranged a good one to take over from the old troll.  
Roxy giggled. “I have a new bunch of lil’ party people! I threw a party in Sapphire at my temple,an’ they joined up!”  
Roxy not only had a temple, she had a veritable cult which lived in a large house in each city, where they would rest during the day, become close as a family and then throw horrendously large parties once a month, and attend other parties. They were known by different names, but Roxy herself occasionally went to these parties, her followers fawning over her, and some would be blessed with a week-long glow that surrounded them if her whim led her to it. In the Quartz city, their house was ornate, and statues of Roxy herself or of sleeping cats could be found dotted in the areas around it. It was only slightly smaller and less grand than her temple. The group would keep cats habitually, and the one in Quartz had a direct descendant of one of Roxy’s own Mutinis. It was considered lucky to have a four-eyed cat sit on your lap, in Quartz, or even approach you.  
Roxy swirled around, grinning. “And they threw it fabulously! We even had blueberry champagne, Rosey, you should attend next time!”  
Rose sighed, rolling her eyes slightly. “I’ve forsworn it for this month. Last time, I was so hungover I couldn’t figure out how to be rid of the hangover itself. Although, if you would, please drop a bottle of blueberry over to Horuss himself. Say it is a gift from me, and ask him to meet me tomorrow. I need to discuss trade with him. One of our sacred Maplehooves has given birth to a foal, and I could do with a new automaton.”  
“You jus’ wanna make sure he doesn’t miss Johnny’s memo, don’t ya?”  
Rose raised an eyebrow. “A horse from his temple that is also from the Temple of the Lightgazer going up to a child would secure a double blessing – and as I’m sure Equius would happily visit the child as well, that would be good. I will not be outdone by Mituna and Latula, after all.” She winked at Roxy, a small smile on her face. “Game on, Roxy. Let’s show them how mystical Quartz can be.”


	2. Chapter 2

**BRING ME YOUR DESTINY. I HAVE DEVOURED IT OVER AND OVER**.  
\- _Burnt into the back of the original Book of the Elder Aries._

"Really, the Amethyst City inhabitants serve one god, rather than two. No one has seen the Younger in many years, and even his omens have been missing for decades." One of the three seated deity theorists poured himself a glass of the finest brandy that the club had to offer in a lazy, look-at-my-importance-isn't-it-wonderful-to-be-me way, tilting his head so that the light glanced off of his curved back horns. "At least one god is witnessed in omen if not in person by every citizen of the Cities, but it has not ever been the Younger Aquarius that I can think of. And yet, he never loses his followers. It's strange, but it's like they worship a dead god."  
A young, cloaked troll serving their wine looked up slowly, hands trembling very slightly, and the human woman seated next to the vain troll sighed, rolling her eyes just barely at him. If there had been a mirror here, they would not have gotten any sensible conversation out of him. "No, there have been one or two omens. I believe he is simply in hiding, although I would not know why."  
The man next to her scoffed. "In hiding? What use has a god for hiding? Especially the Angelraised! No, he's dead, my dear miss, quite dead. He may never have existed at all!"  
The woman frowned at him. "Of course he does. It's natural that -- Oh, are you quite alright, miss? You're shaking!"  
The troll murmured an excuse and fled, while the two males tutted at the woman as though it as it was her fault that this had happened, instead of themselves.  
"Of course, it's sacrilege, to even mention the gods like that to any of these, or suggest that they may be dead! No person except an academic such as ourselves could stand it, you know. Although I’m not sure how academic a woman who still wears her sign can be…" One of them laughed, almost scornfully, smoothing his hair back.  
The woman shook her head, feeling disgust at these two preening peacocks she had to put up with, and grabbing her symbol, that of the Speechweaver, the little ‘m’ like symbol cold in her hand. "Mocking your own religion is a sign of personal reasons poisoning your academical interests, you know. We're warned against it in our group - otherwise philosophy falls to pieces! And it’s blasphemous to think like that - especially in the middle of an Aquarian associated club!" She hoped very much the young troll serving them would be alright. They'd looked shaken by what the academics were discussing.

====>  
Cronus sat relaxing in a small shrine, which was left alone on days like these, suiting his purpose of lazing here very well. Somewhere to rest, rather than that large and empty house where he always felt watched. Cushions spread across the low marble altar, and it was comfortable enough for him to sit here, in the warm sun. Sometimes he brought a guitar here, to practice his music, which he loved doing, especially if a certain someone came to sit with him and listen.  
The door creaked open without hesitation, in a very arrogant way, and a slow smile spread across his face as a young troll entered, cloaked in white and frowning at him in disapproval – not that he paid any attention to that.  
"You been servwing again? At that club? You've got to stop spyin' on the academics!" He laughed. The cloak fell from the other, and identical horns to Cronus' appeared as the hood fell. Eridan shook out his wings - beautiful feathered things that surely had to have been cramped under his cloak - and rolled his eyes. "I can spy on them if wwant, Cro," he spat, brushing a few stray feathers down to lie flat. They’d been so damn confined under the stupid servant’s robes, and he’d had to serve for two hours before the academics finally fucking turned up. And those idiots who tried to slap his butt in the corner – if he had not had ridiculous amounts of self-control when it came to keeping his identity a secret and people thinking he was gone, they would have been piles of ash for that.  
The elder cooed at him, like he'd said something cute instead."Avw, don't be mad, Eri. Did one of 'em suggest you vwere still alivwe again?" Cronus stretched his arm out in an invite. "C'mon, angel..." he coaxed. Eridan flushed and looked to the side. "I told you not to call me that, Cro...Do I look like I enjoy these stupid wwings? Fuckin' game..." He stepped closer as he talked, almost as though he was scared to, and glared as Cronus chuckled, tugging him closer until Eridan sprawled partly next to him and partly on his lap.  
"Like they don't look pretty. I'vwe seen ya preenin', you big baby." He ran a hand over Eridan's upper back, and Eridan settled down, still pouting, but a barely audible purr echoing from his throat.  
"Damara's plannin' somethin' again," he told the other, and Eridan made a little scoffing noise.  
"Wwhen is she not? I'we said it before an' I'll say it again. She's a cunnin' bitch a epic proportions. Suited to be your kismesis, after all." He seemed to turn away, before Cronus placed a kiss to the side of his shoulder, coaxing a little chirp from him. "Besides, eweryone is pullin' their aces out noww, but wwe got the best of all." He smiled, almost sweetly, as Cronus pulled him closer and grinned.  
"No one else can beat vwhat vwe got, you knovw? You did vwell, an' Damara can't beat this. No one can."  
“What about Kri? I mean, you don’t seem to be giwing up on that little awenue too soon, after all.” Eridan shuffled slightly away from him and Cronus went a little purple around the earfins.  
“Kanny nevwer givwes me the time a day anymore, you knovw that, Eri. Don’t use your pretty vwords ta hurt us both, hm?” He pulled Eridan back again. “Kanny ain’t givwin’ anyone time a day. He’s becomin’ too much like that Megido bitch that way, alvways lookin’ into thin air an’ rushin’ off. An’ anyvway, got myself the best sort a princess, ain’t I?”  
Eridan sighed. Like Cronus didn’t act like an idiot around Kankri! But the flattering began to reassure him and he settled back down, watching the light turn purple through the stained glass of the high windows. The temples in their city looked a little like a few he had found all those many years ago in the Land of Wrath and Angels, although none had been so exquisite or whole, but the chapel looked simply beautiful, although there were many more like it, or many more better. Sometimes he could hardly bear to go into any of the main churches when the sun shone strongly, the multi-coloured light of the windows washing over the floor like the rainbow of blood upon the sea waves, when he had helped Fef hunt.  
But here, here, like Cronus, he felt comfortable, the warmth making him feel happily idle, and the nice feeling of his wings being fussed over by the troll sat behind him was a rather guilty pleasure of his. If only he didn’t have these stupid feathery things, he could go swimming properly, but instead a large heated pool of water awaited him in every temple of Aquarius. He was an easy target for others in the other waters of the planet, due to being easily spotted (and a couple of people had mistaken him for a large bird and tried to shoot at him with arrows or other weapons, leaving him with one or two scars on his back here and there).  
====>  
Horuss was carefully brushing through the mane of a young horse in the stables of his largest temple, when a pink light shone gently outside the door. A familiar head poked around the door, the navy blue cape trailing on the ground, a bottle in an elegant hand. Roxy giggled, eyes lighting up.  
“Ooh, Zahhak, you’re not working your muscles on something all things robotical? Shaaaaaame!” She stepped into the stable, pressing the bottle into his hand and bringing a bag of sugar from an inner pocket of the cloak, which had rather impractical yet pretty extortionate amounts of black lace sewn at its edges. She poured a small amount on her palm, feeding it to the young horse and cooing as it nuzzled into her hand, before turning to Horuss again.  
“Did you hear what Johnny’s been sayin’, about getting’ new head priests?”  
Horuss smiled very lightly, and quite genuinely. So that was why she had visited. “Yes, did you come to remind me, by any chance?” He gestured towards a bench mostly clear apart from a dandy brush, and Roxy sat down, the skirts of the dress she wore rustling. She smiled back at him, and nodded, while he examined the bottle. Blueberry wine, it looked like. Quite a fine one as well, if he was any judge.  
“It’s from Rosie, of course! She needs to discuss trade an’ omens with you. A Maplehoof at the Lightgazer Temple’s gonna have a foal, so Rosie wants a new robot for it. She’ll probably say it benefits her, because she don’t like to be seen to do favours, after all. Proud lil’ thing! But it’s for your omen. Don’t tell her I said so!” Roxy giggled, clicking her fingers and watching a bottle and glass hover in front of her, taking the glass and pouring something that had to be very alcoholic for how innocent it smelled. He blinked, almost reaching up to pull his goggles back down for a minute, his hand sort of stuttering mid-air.  
“For me? Whatever for? We’ve never had a proper alliance, after all….” He looked over to her, and she grinned.  
“Latula and Mituna got a kid already. Damara helped them, and Rosie ain’t gonna lose to that bitch, is she? Besides, you an’ I, we’re both Void, an’ I like to think we get along.”  
Horuss closed his eyes. “Tell her to visit the Indigo Chapel in the middle of your city, tomorrow noon. I’ll be there. And Miss Lalonde?”  
She looked up, clear eyed. He wondered whether it was an alcoholic drink or something she wanted him to think was.  
“I would like to think of us as friends, as well.” He would have to get a new stable for the new foal. The lovely white horses of the Quartz City always had held a special place in his heart – however used that had felt recently. Roxy took a long draught of her drink and winked at him.  
“Atta boy, Russy! I’m gonna visit my lil babies tonight, as well, warnin’ you now.” He bit his lip at that. The neverending parties of the Vodka Mutiny cult were legendary (although they did, of course, end), and he ought to warn Equius before the party started.  
Or maybe not. Equius had borrowed one of his toolkits in one of his ‘must make this’ frenzied states, and he had not been able to work on a present for Meulin. The younger could stand to be surprised.  
====>  
Meanwhile, in the past, Damara glared at the couple sat giggling, so very obviously deep in red. Oh, how it sickened her to do this, to be near such innocent, nauseating people, but for a high priest…She stepped closer, her hair loose so she would not be too recognisable. Her recognizable horns had a few people looking at her, but with so many drunk in this place, some might pass it off as an illusion of alcohol.  
“You two happy?” she asked, and the female looked up in surprise, before the male sat next to her squeezed her hand very gently, smiling at her with eyes that almost shone, and he nodded at Damara, who held her hand out to the female, who hesitantly took it, confusion clear, until the sound of all the others in this place fell to silence, replaced with barely audible whispers that echoed Damara as she began to speak.  
“This is a blessing. I, the Witch of the City of Rust declare this. You will have a child who is tuned to Time. Clocks spin and whirl, your child knows all. You will have other children. Six eggs. One will glow. That child will serve my order, holding power at top of the chain.” She let her eyes flow red, and the sound of ticking clocks filled the air – _ticktockticktockticktock_ – while the two gaped at her, eyes wide as a red glow surrounded them like fire. “Your hearts bring me the child. I declare this. Your destiny is now this. You live long and happy matespriteship. Never forget what I have molded fate into, Ilymia Caeron. Nor you, Himlas Niyazi.” They jolted as she used their names, and the fear in their eyes pleased her.  
Spinning cogs appeared behind her, and they looked around to see everyone else frozen in action, some mid-laugh, and one man had beer frozen in place in the air, about to drench him. Damara didn’t look at that, just at them. “Never. Never forget this.” The sound of ticking increased, and her lips quirked upwards minutely, hearing the screams of centuries grinding against Fate as her words turned to truth and twisted Destiny, breaking and remaking it, before the cogs faded, and she with them.  
Ilymia turned to Himlas, eyes wide, as the beer sloshed onto the man, the laughter continued, time resuming around them. A couple of people were rubbing their eyes - those who had been looking at Damara before she froze time – and one placed his glass carefully back on the bar, before paying his bill and staggering away, into the darkness outside.  
“Our….child? She…our child….Oh, gods, Himlas, we’re going to have children…” Ilymia felt herself begin to tear up. “Our child. Our child, Himlas.”  
He stroked her hair gently, his own eyes damp. The thought of his and Ilymia’s child made him feel warm, and happy. And that She Who Controls the Clocks had sought them out, them in particular, that filled him with a sense of wonder. “Our child indeed….” He kissed his matesprit’s cheek gently, still not able to quite believe what had just happened.

====>  
Madalyn sat on one of the large sofas in the main room of the Mutinous House, while one of the younger girls – Amylle, maybe that was her name – brushed through her hair from behind the sofa. Madalyn’s hair was very long, which meant that to properly prepare it for a party took more than her own hands. Once Amylle had done combing through, she would plait it from near the roots to the very tip in many tiny braids, then pull these into a long ponytail with two braids hanging down the side of her face each time - the effect should be truly wondrous.  
One of the many cats who wandered around the House freely purred and came to sit in her lap, and she petted it gently. This one, if she remembered it correctly, was Lady Two-Sea – or rather, to give the creature its full name, Sacred Feline of our Lady of Void, 2000 C, of the Tertiary Line of Mutini. Two-Sea was her favourite cat, and extremely friendly, but she tried to keep still, as Amylle had just put the brush down. It was their monthly party tonight, after all, and as one of the more senior worshippers, Madalyn had to look impressive. She winced as the younger girl began to braid her hair tightly. Most of the other worshippers were asleep upstairs, although they should be waking up soon. A couple of the others were awake, and she could hear Cedric singing quietly in the next room, as he painted himself with bright swirls of colour.  
A glow of pink began filling the centre of the room, and Lady Two-Sea jumped from her lap to run towards it, and every single cat in the house appeared at the doorways, zipping past to sit purring around it. It disappeared to show a girl with blonde hair in a pink party dress, her eyes matching it as she looked around.  
“Wowza! Been a whiiiiiiiiile since I was here!” She looked at Madalyn and Amylle, scooping up a cat with black patches over its eyes – Lady One-Em, Madalyn noted, dazedly, before grinning. “Everyone asleep? Wake them up, babies!” All the cats except the one in her arms ran off, and a few seconds later the sound of many people grumbling at cats trying to turf them out of their beds could be heard.  
“What’s going on?” Cedric stuck his head around the corner, and Roxy squealed loudly.  
“Ceddy! Perfect timing! Ooh, painting yourself already?”  
Cedric went white under the swirling navy blue crossing his face. “My Lady!” He swept her a strange bow, on one knee, and she giggled in delight.  
“Awwww! C’mon, stand up, we need everyone looking damn awesome for the party tonight! Get your paints out of that room an’ in here, boy!” She pulled him up with one arm, taking note of his clothing. “Good choice, with the jeans, although paint ain’t a shirt!”  
He blushed deeply, scurrying to grab the enormous box of body paints he kept around for the parties, while Elise sloped out of the kitchen, holding onto a packet of little chocolatey things which were delivered weekly for them by one of the chocolatiers. Roxy turned to her, and she too turned white, sweeping onto her knees properly.  
“My lady, you have come to partake in celebrations?”  
Roxy grinned widely. “Hell yeah, my lovely lil’ babies. Mama’s gonna make this one of the best parties ever for all of you!” She winked, finally putting the cat down to go over to Madalyn and help Amylle braid her hair. “Aw, Maddie, we’re going to make you look so pretty for the party – ah, there are the lazy little peeps! Hey, hey! C’mon, we’ve got a party to get ready for, after all!”  
Madalyn gulped, looking up at the crowd descending in from each entryway of the room, as Cedric pushed past them to put the box of paints down in the centre. She tried not to think about the fact that her goddess was plaiting her hair, as the others began to make themselves ready, some going upstairs to grab party clothing, while Roxy looked about with a large smile, as her believers began to prepare.


	3. Chapter 3

**Celebrate me before another word passes your lips.**

\- _Carved into the Sacred Shrine of Our Lady in Mutiny House, Quartz City_

 

The heady scent of wine and vanilla is what he smelt when he landed in the Equine City, seeing so many colours and so much anger weaving around him in the wide streets, shadowed by the tall hives and buildings. He couldn’t tell where it was coming from, and he looked around for people free of the worries of the world, looked for those who were inebriated, the drunks who were happy instead of sobbing, and found a troll boy smeared in paint wandering around giggling in a tone too high pitched for his voice for it to be natural, and his painted lips quirked up. Motherfuckin’ bingo.

"HAIL, my most miraculous of ALL WICKED COLOURFUL BROTHERS, where are you all up and celebrating at?” His gentle smile simply made the boy giggle more, and hug him close, his eyes just a pink glow like a psionic’s. Double bingo. It was the little sis herself, up and wearing a pretty little coat of a follower.

“Heyyyyyyy, you be talkin’ to the Ro-Lal herself, via a lovely lovely boy who’s livin’ in my Mutiny House, Gam-Kara! C’mon, c’mon, come party!” The Ragemaker let himself be tugged forwards by the possessed boy, seeing others being led along the cobbles towards a house lit up in bright pink, and he let his guide tug him towards the doors and through the throng of people who were dancing madly to music that pounded through the walls with no visible source, as the crowd pushed into the house.

A floaty pink scarf caught his eye mere moments before arms wrapped around him squeezing him tightly, Roxy smiling up at him.

“Great to see ya, Gamz!” She pecked his cheek, grinning as she surveyed the room of dancing, partying people, one troll stumbling over the sofa as he kissed a human boy with swirls smeared in bright colours over his body, and a smaller troll girl dancing on a low coffee table, giggling and pulling others up to dance with her. “Good turnout today, Horuss might send his cute lil bro round as well!” She waved a hand, and glitter began to fall from the air.

Gamzee hugged her close. “Care for a dance, my pink sis?” he asked with a smile, holding his hand out once he let her go.

Her eyes glowed for a second, grin growing wider. “Let’s wreck this joint, Makara.” Taking his hand, she took him to the centre of the dancefloor, where a small circle was made for them by the crowd, with the music changing to something that pounded through the house like a headache, to the delight of the people surrounding them as Gamzee twirled Roxy around like a ballerina and began to dance with her, the lights changing to purple for a minute before they went back to flashing different colours as Roxy winked at him and pulled him close before beginning to almost jive to the music, somehow her steps able to fit in, and her followers began to dance among themselves, a girl with braids in a long ponytail downing a shot of something bright green with whoops from her peers while Gamzee grinned, clicking his fingers and watching as little trails of gold glitter swirled around her.

“Who might that little sis be?” He watched as Roxy began to whirl around in a dance he recognised, jumping to the side of him and holding his hands until he danced the same old jitterbug she’d taught him so many years ago.

“Oh, that’s Maddie, she’s cool when she lets herself relax!” Roxy giggled. “Wakes up so early in the morning my own eyes hurt, you know, but a gooooood kid!” She paused to grab a pink shot from a passing floating tray, giggling afterwards. “An’ how goes it with your search for priesty?”

“Aw, shit, sis, I missed that memo…I remember Johnbro talking about something, can’t remember now….” Gamzee picked her up and spun around, as she giggled, scarf flying out behind her.

“Well, you’re gonna love this little sitch we all got up in our grills, Gamz!” she whispered loudly, before squeaking and wriggling from his grip to run to the door. “Zahhak! Yay!” She flung herself at Equius, who was standing dumbfounded at the door before falling backwards as Roxy hugged him, turning steadily blue with blushing. Gamzee skulked behind a pillar as Roxy helped the younger god to his feet, and tugged him towards the dance floor.

“Miss L-Lalonde, I am not quite sure this is one hundred percent appropriate—oh, _fiddlesticks….”_   Roxy continued to tug him forward, cackling lightly, and Gamzee wandered slowly to another of the big rooms. Here, he could have fun. A snarling couple were wrestling with each other, biting forward at each other’s lips and snarling like grubs would, their eyes bright with drink. Young hate was always so fun to witness, and by simply clicking his fingers, the spades became almost palpable as one leant forward to sink his teeth into the other’s neck. A chuckle burned in his throat as he watched them scrap, and the blushes of the others around them who were sober enough to care about such social standards, which usually fell by the end of the party anyway. Music continued to pulse through the walls as the two growled and scratched at each other.

Roxy was all about fun, he knew, and sometimes, when drunk enough, she’d point out those who were already falling into the caliginous quadrant together, and he always leant a helping hand. Looking back at the kismesis pair, he grinned to see rust blood smeared across the greenblood’s lips as his pitch partner shoved at him with a growl. Everyone knew the Ragemaker was the patron god of the black quadrant, just as the Archer and Huntress were the patron gods of the pale quadrant, but Gamzee knew he could make any kismesitude soar to legendary serendipity with enough care. He could do more than that – he could have the rustblood strangle his little lime to the darkest shadows there were while the greenblood writhed in ecstasies brought about by the lack of air and the hate, could see the rustblood in despair as claws scraped at his grubscars, could have them do any number of things. He could have the little purple butterfly with all his high and mighty hiding skills begging for release or biting at his own shoulders, could have the red witch leaving the other fish, the slimy one, needy and tied up with none of the hope he created. A harsh bark of laughter escaped him at the thought, but the idea of wings under his fingers had him thoughtful for a minute, considering before shrugging and downing a colourful shot of something pretty and bright. Lil sis sure knew how to throw a party, as she always had. He spotted the boy from before, the one who’d led him here, and caught hold of him, planting a biting kiss on his lips, almost gently. A blessing for serendipity in darker quadrants. The boy gasped and then blinked up at him, pupils blown wide. Motherfuckin’ miraculous. He watched as the boy stumbled to the couch in a daze, and followed to plant a kiss of facepaint on his cheek. What a darling he was. He’d have to warn Roxy not to let anyone steal him from her.

He looked over at that rustblood again, thinking. Maybe this one would do for a follower? He shook his head after a while. Such lovely pitch potential, but such a little bug of a lifespan. It just couldn’t do, not for a priest of his. And he wouldn’t go to that bitch again, she was a festering darkness that never comforted him, the lord of all darkness. There was a nasty edge to her and fishbitch’s quadrant, a platonic hate that was unhealthy, and he loathed the way it felt.

No, but maybe the two could produce some nice clutches for him. And that pretty little thing should find a nice little square for himself, and he could always get a priest from one of the wrigglers already promised to him by his own followers who were blessed by him already. Time to get going.

Equius and Roxy were still dancing, pink and blue lights spinning around them, a spotlight that had no point of origin following them as others danced around them, a tiny troll girl painted with green drawing some attention as she spun around, hips circling slightly as the tealblood next to her shrugged off her jacket to take her hand and dance with her, Roxy whooping at them as they began to swirl with the paint on their arms smudging on each other. Gamzee clicked his fingers again, and a snarl was heard in the crowd as a poised seadweller had their fin bitten by the indigo next to them, the two tussling and yelping much like the rustblood and greenblood in the next room. Equius whipped around, looking for the one he knew to be the cause of it.

“Miss Lalonde, where is he?” he asked flatly, and Roxy blinked up at him, all innocent pink eyes and questioning head tilt.

“Who, Equibabe?” she asked him, twirling the other round and watching as Gamzee slunk out of the door.

“Makara…” Equius was growling slightly, and Roxy blinked at him before smiling widely at him, her heartbeat pulsing along with the bassline of the song.

“Gam-Kara is not in the house! C’mon, I got the best vodka mix to share with ya!”

====>

Kurloz sat on the grass under the stars, Mituna sat in his lap as his moirail fussed about his hair, sliding red and blue beads into the curling mess that had grown a little longer over the years. He made sure to keep it short for decency’s sake, but Mituna did like it when it grew longer, and always rebraided it, chattering away like he did now.

“An’ I got a little bee, thhe’th tho tho cute, Loth! Thhe’s gonna be my High Priethtethh!” Mituna shifted slightly, and Kurloz patted his head gently as the other tried to sort out his words.

“I gave her beeth, an’ her brain’th like mine, I can feel it, feelth like when Tholluckth vithitth but better, thhe’th gonna be a little demi—demo—fuck!”

-DEMIGODDESS?-

“Yeah, yeah! Thhe’th gonna be one of thooooooothe!” Mituna clapped his hands twice, before smiling at Kurloz. “An’ I reckon the and me are gonna get along tho well!” He wriggled slightly. “I gave her a hug, cauthe they thcared her a bit. Thhe’th a thweet kid, you can meet with her!”

Kurloz considered it, humming. It might be nice to get to know the person who Mituna had picked out to be his high priestess, but the child might be scared. Ah, well, if it made Mituna happy, then why not? He smiled softly, nodding as Mituna plaited another curl of hair.

“Yetttttthhhhhh!” Mituna dropped the braid when he had finished. “Awethome!”

Besides, he needed to check whether she could withstand a visit from his dancestor before anything could possibly happen. His mind drifted there for a minute, wondering about what Gamzee could be up to before Mituna’s psionics sparked and brought him back to the present. He gently papped Mituna’s face, and the other nuzzled into the touch, bringing a smile to Kurloz’s ever-stitched lips.

====>

Sollux growled to himself softly as he scanned over the little shrine in his city where Eridan would have been. The coward was still hiding? After everything he’d done? And now Sollux  was being illogical, which was surely that bastard’s fault as well.

“The fuck are you, ED? Your fethtival – your fucking fethtival, you actually have a fucking fethtival over our world to glorify your thorry athh, and you aren’t going to thhow up this year either? You diva fucking hipthter…”

He could almost imagine Eridan’s reply. _It’s my festival, I get to decide, unless you w-want to be a prissy little w-wriggler and throw a tantrum about that too?_

How many years had it been since he had heard the snarky fishdick’s voice? How many years had it been since Eridan had found that stupid scribble, and looked very surprised by it, before disappearing utterly? He didn’t think ED was dead. ED would have made sure to be overly dramatic about it, of course, and there had been one or two sightings here and there in Amethyst, but he couldn’t rule out that his informants had simply seen Cronus rather than Eridan himself.

Why the fuck had he even written that stupid thing? It had been jealousy, he supposed, after seeing Cronus drunkenly whispering sweet nothings to ED, all tender and red, while ED blushed and didn’t shove him away like he would usually have done. And then years and years after that had happened ED had actually fucking found it and then there had been that argument better known as ‘I Done Fucked Up’ by Sollux himself and as fuck knows what by Eridan. Little snatched drifted into his mind from memory.

_“W-We’re meant to be kismesis, Sol! W-what is this?”_

_“It doethn’t mean jack thhit!”_

_“W-what doesn’t? This poem or us?”_

_“How about both, codthucker?”_

He probably shouldn’t have said that, in hindsight. Eridan had looked like he had been shot, and then had laughed, looking all sharp edges in that very hatesexy way, except that Sollux had just broken things off with him, and it was enough of a look to make him question how many times Eridan had felt so hurt except he shouldn’t care if Eridan was or not if Eridan picked a fight with him first.

_“W-well then, w-what the fuck did you mean by putting it in my temple?”_

_“Like you fucking care!”_

_“Sol, go choke on your own bone bulge, then go fuck yourself with a poisoned –Get aw-way from me. I ain’t got a reason to be here, remember?”_

One hundred years later, no sign of Eridan and he was waiting like an idiot for the stupid dickhead to come crawling back to him. It was possible even Eridan had standards that were above that, fucking princess he was.

Maybe he missed Eridan. Maybe the moron really did mean something to him? Who was he kidding. Eridan was the best pitch fuck he’d ever known, and even Gamzee had mentioned now and then that they didn’t need his help. Maybe that was why he was holed up in here wanting to rewind time and stop himself from saying that shit. But…

It wasn’t just that. It was like he wanted the dick in both concupiscent quadrants like a desperate fool, and he’d been a dick to him and he missed the shit out of him. He’d probably run on back to Cronus and they had probably been fucking for the past hundred years. He felt the snarl as his claws dug into the computer table.

Also he missed his fluffy wings. Because they were really rather cute despite the fact they were attached to an completely annoying prissy asshole.

He tipped his head back with a long sigh, trying to sort out the scrambled mess in his mind. The thought of Cronus cuddling Eridan like he had the night back in the ancient days when Sollux had gone and burnt that stupid poem into the walls of ED’s temple.

The door creaked open and Latula poked her head around, eyes bright and grin wide. “Sol-Cap! What you up to in here?”

Sollux fell off his chair with a graceful thump, and heard Latula laughing as he scrambled upwards. Fuck! That hurt and…it was kind of mortifying.

“I’m damned if I apologithe to that a-hole!” he told her, feeling the growl rumble in his throat again. Latula blinked before frowning and opening her arms.

“Yo, Sol-Cap, we’re gods. I can get the best Trollio-Kart and ice cream and call up Megido for ya, or you can sit with me if you don’t want her to do the whole pale thing of tellin’ you that you have to apologise to him, an’ we can talk this out. Bring me a hug, Solbro.”

Sollux hugged her tightly. Latula wasn’t all bad, he guessed, and Aradia would probably tell him to say sorry. He didn’t want to say sorry. He wanted ice cream and to be able to bitch extensively about Eridan.

Latula clapped her hands and a game system appeared, set up with four controllers, and a sofa in red and blue, with three pots of Blue Moon ice cream. Sollux followed her over and threw himself onto the blue half, leaving her with the red seat and one pot of ice cream as he picked up the controller.

“So, you gonna tell me what did happen with you and Ampora?” Latula asked, clicking ‘Start’ and selecting Leegee, while Sollux picked Tuuadd, the little Tinkerbull with the mushroom hat.

“I wrote him a poem after our firtht big party together, you remember the one?”

Latula giggled softly, with a deeply teal blush. “Yup, I remember. Honey mead made by you and Roxy. That was one wild party, Twin Bee!”

Sollux looked at her suspiciously, but decided he was better off not knowing what had happened with her. Probably something to do with MT, after all. “Well, ED was thnuggled up to Cronuth like a lovethtruck douche and even though we were thpadeth, I didn’t like it, and I wath drunk, and I burnt the poem into the wallth of hith temple where I didn’t think he would find it. I alwayth thought of it ath thomething I knew that he didn’t, and then about a hundred yearth ago, the bitch found it. And then he thort of blew up at me athking what I meant by it, what it meant, and I thaid it didn’t mean anything at all. Then he athked if I meant the poem or uth, tho I thaid both to pithh him off, and then he dithappeared and I cannot fucking find the bitch!” Tuuadd broke through a box on screen, and Sollux sent the banana skins off onto the track, hearing Latula curse as Leegee skidded around them, narrowly avoiding them.

“So you got jealous and then broke up with him so you wouldn’t lose an argument? Cold!” Latula overtook him, and grinned slightly, handing him a pot of ice cream as she did so. “But you know how long we were in the bubbles? I know how long an Ampora can sulk. You ain’t gonna win this one, Solbee. But you have two options as I see it. Either you can say sorry and get your kismesis or matesprit or whatever you two want to be back, or you can go on hoping he’ll give up. The second one doesn’t have as much chance as the first, but overall those are your choices. And Aradia’s here.”

Curly hair brushed against his cheek as Aradia kissed it softly – a very pale gesture – as she took Latula’s controller, letting the Elder Dragonborn vanish in a puff of teal smoke. “Boo!”

“How long were you there?” Sollux groaned as Aradia leant against him.

“Long enough to know that you done fucked up, Sollux! But shh. Only Blue Moon and Trollio now.” She extended her fingers in a ‘v’ shape towards him and smiled when he completed the diamond, racing Leegee forward into the next lap.


	4. Chapter 4

**Time creates more fools than Love.**  
- _The First Book of the Order of the Three Cogs, Chapter Four_.

The circle is not yet complete.  
Time, you see, is indeed round, the Trinity of Clockwork know. It’s shaped like a cog, and its teeth can either be dull or sharp. But for this cycle, the cycle of red and black that has lasted for the centuries that they have lived through, the circle is broken. The dance is missing one who should be waltzing away merrily or angrily.  
Somebody has changed how things should be, they know this, and somebody has changed everything. One of the Trinity takes the other dancer, tries to teach him to dance so that his partner can return. One of them contemplates who could be pulling the strings, knowing all the while who it must be. One of them thinks the irony of the situation, of the other dancer having to learn the new moves when his partner was always the leading lady or lord depending on the mood, is absolutely hilarious.  
But the lack of circle itches at them.  
The third one has to guard, they agree, when they meet in the church they share at the back of the huge house that houses the Order of the Three Cogs, in the city of Fire. He is meant to guard, and he must keep the circle going. The second dismisses the idea that it should be her – she has her own projects in time, she doesn’t need the responsibility. She has too much on her plate, she snaps at them, drawing a deep breath of smoke from her cigarette. So the first agrees that if someone will check on her moirail every day – he is intrinsic to their plan, after all, an essential part in the masquerade. She will take it upon herself to find out what really happened, to sneak and eavesdrop and find out everything that has happened. The other two hug her once, before she closes her eyes, arriving at the point when everyone had arrived on the world during the game.  
The game seized upon them one last time. The powers flowed through them, everyone receiving more and more power, gasping and screaming in the case of a few. Eridan continuing to scream as bones formed within him and pushed forcefully from his back, Cronus cradling him as his God Tier wings crumbled to dust, Eridan sobbing loudly as everyone stared, curling in and almost insensible from pain. Feathers sprouting and Sollux looking horrorstruck as angel wings had spread from Eridan’s back, seeing him so weak. Aradia, now watching, saw the way his eyes were wide with worry. They had all been too shocked at the time. She watched, seeing her younger self turn and smile in her direction.  
Eridan had learnt to deal with his wings, but Sollux hadn’t liked them. Perhaps because they served of a reminder of how vulnerable Eridan could be. Aradia sighed softly. If they could only see each other, see everything that was happening, they probably wouldn’t be making each other so unhappy. She walked unseen over Time to follow Eridan and Sollux both through their past, tangled and confused as it was.  
====>  
The Descending of the Elder Gemini straightened her new robes – gold and white, and crouched to watch the hive of bees, who never attacked her, or got frightened around her. They would almost come out to greet her before going back to their busy work, building their hive, a worker bee occasionally coming to sit on her hand as if to reassure her, before going back to the hive, where somewhere within the queen with her mark of the symbol of the Gemini on her back.  
Metisa had been surprised when a small pot of honey had been gathered from the bees, who weren’t the over-intelligent purple type that produced the continually dangerous ‘mind honey’, but instead the soft brown-yellow fuzzy type. There was a small hive of the other sort in the small chapel dedicated to the Younger Gemini, but only the devotees who were not psionics were allowed to gather it. Any psionic who tasted it was a liability, might destroy the place, and it was even written in the chapel as one of the first things the two gods had told them.  
Do not, under any circumstances, eat the mind honey.  
But the pot of normal honey had been very sweet, spread on handmade bread from the kitchens, and a lovely thing to eat whenever Metisa was allowed by the priestess who she had been asked to call Sister Julia. Sister Julia was a tall and slightly rounded human who arranged Metisa’s care, including her lessons. Metisa did not know what to make of her lessons – she was being taught about bees by Brother Abrack, who knew everything there was to know and had indeed demonstrated collection to her, which resulted in the small pot of honey labelled with her own name.  
Just a few short days ago, as they were settling her in, she had been called to see the Second Most High Priestess. This woman had looked down at her, informing her that she was the Descending, currently the most important person within their walls, and as such would not be lodging with the other children, but on her own. She would be educated, and taught, and above all she would live twice as long. After that, the Second Most High Priestess had told her, it would be up to the Elder Gemini what happened to her, surely. She kindly told her that everything would be alright, and as the Descending she would be something like a holy child, and needed taking care of so that she could one day do the Gods proud. That was when Sister Julia had been called in. Sister Awekni was the one who had had such a big reaction, but Sister Julia had been so kind, hugging her immediately and talking gently, laughing when her hair crackled with a little static from Metisa’s psionics being activated by her own surprise.  
The other children stared, looked away, or glared in a few cases when she walked by, so Metisa had tried to mostly stay in her room. She had hoped that she could have a friend or two, but it didn’t seem likely to happen. She had no time where she interacted with the other children, and only if she wandered would she see them.  
The fluffy haired man had not come back, and Metisa found that it made her rather sad. The teal lady was lovely, but the feel of a few psionics who were so similar and yet so different within the Temple, had brought back the feeling of someone whose inner electrics were wired like hers. She coughed a little to stop feeling sad, and jumped as she realised she had picked up a little clay figurine across the room with her psionics, a figurine among the Pantheon display. The Younger Leo, one of her personal favourites among the Gods.  
“S-Sister Julia!” she wailed lowly, and Julia dashed in, seeing the problem and readying her hands to catch it.  
“It’s alright, child, be calm. Be calm, and think of naught.” The clay figure dropped into her hands as soon as Metisa was able to relax, and was replaced on the little ornamental steps where the Pantheon was displayed. “See, she smiles still, she has not become angry with you.” Julia wrapped her in a hug, and led her to the big pile of cushions in the middle of the room, pointing to the hive. “Look, they are waiting, but they are not worried, Descending One.” Settling her down, she took one of the blankets from the cupboards, wrapping it around her.  
“Now, you are to learn from the Poems of Talgah the Worthy today, so I brought a copy of his Third Selected Works. They are simple to understand, but often used as prayer, or when people wish to argue with regards to the Elder Gemini. As his Descending, you are his ambassador, and your like has not been seen for a few turns of the clock, as well you know. The politics of the world may be managed by all the gods, but the politics of a church are all like a ball of wool played with by a cat, a meowbeast.”  
Metisa slowly nodded. What it meant to be Descending was to be blessed, to be more than a senior priestess. It was to be chosen by the Gods, by a particular God, and like the Second Most High Priestess had told her, it meant she was a holy child. A holy person, and people would think that she and the fluffy haired man, as she wanted to keep thinking of the Elder Gemini as, were very much close. He might come visit her again if she was good at being his Descending.  
But people within churches could be rather odd. One minute, they would hail you as Descending, but then everyone was preparing her to argue, it seemed, to learn all these things, which had to mean people were going to try and argue with her, be cross at her. She had a feeling that there was something bigger behind all this preparation. She was, for instance, also being taught all the myths of the Gods that were ‘appropriate’ for her. So she had never known before that the Younger Gemini was often seen at the Elder’s temple. Nor had she known that once, bees had been turned to wasps and sent to attack and sting the armies from Crimson who had marched on the city, although that was far gone now. She was taught new things each day, and then more and more about bees.  
She snuggled into the blanket as Sister Julia began to read the Poems.

“And the Younger has declared,  
Though we are doomed, we are blessed  
Though we are two, we are one  
Though we are dark, we are of gold.

Through our mistakes, come our glory  
Through our anger, our care  
Through our words, our love  
And those who we hold dear  
We shall hold until the last days of this paradise.”

====>  
Eridan woke up with fresh tears on his face again, huddled inside his wings. He’d dreamt of that fight with Sollux again, feeling his anger coating his feelings and then hearing Sol say those words. Those awful words, breaking everything around him…And what happened after that. He curled around himself further, sobbing quietly and wishing that it had not happened like that. That he hadn’t had to do what he did, to keep safe the most important person in his life.  
But Cronus…Cronus had been there for him time and again. Cronus knew what was best, and he could quite see why it might be different, dangerous even, to have not followed that plan. As long as he stayed here, he was safe, and as long as Cronus’ plan went ahead, things would be fine. He wouldn’t have to feel like this anymore, although the ache from every time he woke up with dreams of what had been in the past would probably still hurt like this, like a living hell choking up his throat and burning his eyes with these wretched tears.  
He tried to calm himself down, and his wings opened so he could see Cronus crouched in front of him, a rare worried look on his face. Eridan looked up at him, and Cronus opened them, holding Eridan close against his chest, letting the other cry and hold on to him, kissing him softly, Eridan kissing back like he was drowning in himself, like this was the only way to survive, still crying as Cronus held him.  
Would eternity always be like this, he wondered later as he relaxed in the heated water of the pool in their chapel in Rust (which Cronus insisted on using to annoy Damara), waking up unhappy and crying because of happiness he’d had in the past? Waiting for Cronus to get bored of him, to stop being happy, for the other shoe to drop like it had before? Waiting for Kankri to relent and admit to his feelings, which he clearly had if anyone with sense looked at him when Cronus was near. Waiting to be dropped like a hot coal, waiting for the same cycle to repeat itself again and again until he was finally broken? He was trying to relax all the time, and sometimes Cronus frankly annoyed him, but he did care for him, he did. Cronus treated him well, and Cronus made sure he was alright. Cronus was always there, and Eridan worried when he came back to the places they used if Cronus could not be found. The crippling fear that grasped him at those times was almost as bad as these times where he woke up heartbroken again, feeling like he couldn’t stand any more of this, feeling like he was going to go mad from the emotions boiling over in his mind and heart. He couldn’t lie to himself, he knew he wasn’t exactly stable, but this was more maddening than anything he had experienced. Every guilt played upon his mind until his dreams replayed the past, over and over. The worst were the happy memories he had with Sollux, the beautiful rivalry that had damn near blossomed between them, and to wake up remembering quickly what had happened, how everything had crumbled and left him even rockier internally than before, or instantly vulnerable to Cronus’ wants and his kiss.  
He dreamt of the end of the game, occasionally, of the pain when his old wings had collapsed, and the new ones had formed. Cronus’ arms around him, the pain making him cry like a child, like a wriggler, but the arms that had kept him safe had been there, and he’d closed his eyes to not see the looks from the others. In these dreams, the pain he remembered had woken him, the wings curled around him again, but Cronus’ arms around his waist.  
Sometimes he dreamt of the dreambubbles, of the happy days he had found with Cronus, of the faraway look the other got whenever he mentioned Kankri or when the then-sweater clad troll walked by. Cronus would always return to talk to him, and he had begun to hope again. Cronus took such care, such pains with him to make sure he was happy. He’d quickly let himself care for the other, still being prickly, but spending part of your eternity with someone softens you to them. Even if that other might truly drop you should the person he truly cared for accept and return his feelings. Eridan wasn’t stupid, he knew that Cronus was as red as fire for Kankri. But Cronus swore he was red for him as well, that he cared deeply for him, had been so gentle with his sore heart.  
He wanted their plan to succeed quickly, so he could feel whole again. Cronus’ plan had made him unhappy, but like Cronus said, it would work out for the best in the end. Spreading his wings in the water, he relaxed and let out a deep sigh, hearing someone opening the door and turning to look, seeing Dirk staring at him in obvious surprise.  
Panic set in and he dived underwater, hiding at the bottom of the shallow pool, shaking slightly, before looking up, hoping that the other god would have decided it was a trick of the light, and instead seeing him staring down.  
“Damn. You’ve been here, then?” Dirk’s eyes roved over him slightly, face otherwise stoic as usual.  
Eridan emerged slowly. “Don’t tell. Don’t tell anyone!” He was shaking again, he realised, and Dirk was looking at him slowly, before nodding slowly.  
“I think you and me should have a talk about another thing you don’t want me telling.” Cold fear shot through Eridan again, and he began to sniffle, tears rolling down his cheeks.  
“I- If you w-won’t tell, I-I need to talk…I can’t talk to anyone…” The secret was too heavy for him, too grief-filled to continue like this. One person surely wouldn’t hurt to tell, and as Dirk offered him a towel to wrap himself in, he began to let the words flow.  
====>  
Aradia watched Eridan biting at his lip as he walked through the halls of an Aquarian temple, looking down. Sollux had reacted badly when his hand touched a wing, and again when Eridan’s wings had spread out, and Eridan was wondering aloud how to fix it. He picked up a silky piece of fabric, folding his wings in slowly and calling for Cronus, who appeared quickly.  
“Cro, will you help?” He was attempting to wind the cloth around wings, tightly, and Cronus stared at him in shock.  
“Eri, listen to me, that’s going to hurt, you—Did Captor act like a brat again? You don’t havwe to please him, you knovw, that ain’t your job!”  
Eridan turned, looking down. “No, it ain’t, but these…I don’t want them, just...For my sake, Cro, w-will you help?” He looked up at Cronus, eyes glittering slightly with tears, and Cronus stepped closer, taking the other end of the cloth from Eridan’s hands.  
“For you, chief, and not anyone else.” He began to help strap the wings down, occasionally kissing Eridan’s cheek and making the other giggle, even when Eridan was wincing and trying not to make a noise from the feeling of having his wings bound like this. Aradia looked on from the corner where she was hidden, seeing something like tenderness between the two. Some sort of romance, which…She had not expected it, not really. Everyone knew that Cronus was a fool for Kankri.  
But it seemed that Eridan had already been in Cronus’ hold, in his arms, even, before Sollux had broken up with him. Maybe Eridan and Cronus were still together, but…This she had not banked on. It seemed she had something to untangle that might require some help. She flickered out of that time, appearing in Karkat’s halls and waiting for the blue and red flashes to appear.  
Sure enough, Sollux appeared, the smell of burning following him as he screamed, psionics burning footprints into the floor as he stormed up and down.  
“KK, YOU GET YOUR ATHH OUT HERE RIGHT THITH FUCKING THECOND!” he yelled, and Kankri appeared from a door, blanching and shrieking for Karkat, who appeared with a smell of sulphur.  
“Sollux, you stop this right now, or so help me, I will throttle the explanation from—“  
“I BROKE UP WITH HIM! I DID IT! I FINALLY GOT RID OF HIM, WASN’T I ALWAYTH THAYING THAT, AND NOW LOOK! IT’TH ALL FUCKED UP! I DID IT AGAIN, I FLIPPED AND I LOTHT HIM, AND NOW WHO THE FUCK KNOWTH WHY BUT HE’TH FUCKING GONE, OKAY? GONE! HE’TH HIDING --“  
Karkat cut him off, spitting with rage.  
“OH, WELL, FUCKING WELL DONE, IDIOT! I ASSUME YOU ARE STILL HOPELESSLY IN PITCH AND FLUSH WITH HIM AND UNABLE TO DO ANYTHING NOW! YOU JUST SHOT YOUR CHANCE, WELL DONE, ASSHOLE!” Karkat stormed up to him. “SO CALM THE FUCK DOWN, OKAY! HE’LL COME BACK, HE ALWAYS FUCKING DOES, FUCK KNOWS WHY, BUT NOW I HAVE TO MANAGE YOU TWO FUCKERS AGAIN! WHY THE HELL CAN’T YOU PICK SOMEONE ELSE FOR YOUR CLUBS, YOU ASK? BECAUSE YOU NEED TO CALM DOWN, AND ONLY DO SO WHEN SOMEONE GIVES YOU THE COLD HARD TRUTH THAT YOU HAVE FUCKED UP MAJORLY! AS YOU SO OFTEN DO WHEN YOU DECIDE TO FUCK THINGS UP FOR YOURSELF, INCLUDING FUCKING ERIDAN UP. AGAIN. SIT DOWN, DRINK THIS, AND FUCKING SLEEP!”  
Karkat pushed some concoction into Sollux’s hand, watching until he downed it and sighing as Sollux crumpled to the floor. “Two out of three, that’s alright.”


	5. Chapter 5

**To fly is not to be free.**

_\- Third Scroll of the Younger Aquarius._

 

It had troubled Rose at the start that she could not remember all the mythological gods of Earth. Alternia had not really had any such thing, given that the one who had always ruled them was the Empress (who aside from Meenah, had thankfully not been resurrected in any way, shape, or form). They knew who it was wise to worship, but humans did not have worldwide rulers. She had toyed with the idea of writing down what she could remember, but had dismissed it. It had still saddened her to think that the old gods would be so forgotten, and the novelty of her own existential crisis following this revelation had somewhat amused the usually latent irony appreciation within her.

Her own beginning did not involve any shells, or flowers, but a golden glow that had whipped around her, filling her with so much power it had been a relief to find herself sane following it. Her dress had changed almost immediately to something more of her liking, a dark inky purple with the symbol of light still glowing on it, and that had been the first thing to stop her in her tracks. Her first show of power, and it was a fashion statement?

It was more than that. She hadn’t even thought of it before it had changed, and it somewhat scared her, but as she looked over to Kanaya, whose eyes she could feel, she saw that she too had had a few minor changes in her outfit. Now and then, it would change into something a little different – Kanaya never could make up her mind, and it was rather sweet to see it in such a way.

That had been before the mixed screaming had died down to one of pure pain, before everyone saw what had happened to Eridan, what the game had hit him with as a parting shot. She had felt herself feeling very unhappy at the sight, wanting to help him somehow, surprisingly, but only a fool went near a troll in pain. A fool like Cronus was lucky not to be hurt worse than he was when Eridan panicked. He was lucky not to get anymore scars like the two on his forehead.

They had found out pretty quickly, when they were still under the delusion that travelling together would be wise, that Eridan’s wings couldn’t be changed with any magic. Eridan had tried ripping them off at the joint, despite being told not to, and the agony on his face when he tugged and the bones re-joined was enough to make everyone realise that this was his eternal punishment. This was retribution from the sick mind of the game, or whatever it had that passed for a mind. The others could change to God Tier outfits, sprout wings, but Eridan’s purple wings were indeed gone. His proper outfit did not even appear when he tried, and he was the first to leave after a few weeks of travel, Cronus still by his side like some sort of fussing hen.

Kankri had been the next to leave, muttering something about not being wanted anyway, and Porrim had seemed fine with it for all of two weeks before Karkat found her huddled and crying, worried about Kankri. Damara was found missing next, and to this day she was somewhat of a recluse, only tending to tolerate being around Cronus, Dave and Aradia. Porrim had then shrugged and jumped on board the ‘Missing’ wagon, leaving a note for Kanaya that only the other Maryam had ever read.

Without Eridan there to antagonise, Sollux had slowly become to act more poisonously, more nastily, and Karkat had enough of it. He’d had a screaming row with him in Old Alternian, which the trolls had wandered away from instantly, and the humans couldn’t understand. Gamzee had tried to calm Karkat, which made matters a little worse, as Equius had then joined in, with Nepeta pleading at his side in both languages. Kanaya had stepped into the middle, and Equius and Nepeta retreated to have their own argument behind a couple of trees, and, almost predictably, were vanished the next morning.

Vriska had laughed, saying something about the weak leaving while they still had some dignity, and very quietly Tavros had gone a few days later. His new legs were strong, but Rose could see that even Vriska’s mere presence was making him anxious, and even her rage at his disappearance made it clear what a good idea it had been for him to leave. Her anger nearly always focused on him whenever she had a hissy fit, anyway, even now. Rufioh had been worried sick, and then Horuss had gone the next day, and to everyone’s surprise, so had Roxy. Rose had felt nervous herself at the rapid rate everyone was leaving, having wanted Roxy there for a while yet. She was more heartbroken when Kanaya made her excuses to her in the middle of what passed for night, coming to where she slept and kissing her cheek before she went into the night. Her reasons were sound, Rose remembered, and she had promised to be back quite soon. Rose had been determined not to leave after that, but Vriska had then had hysterics when Kanaya was missing in the morning, vowing to find her. Rose remembered wishing Vriska luck, sarcastically, still stinging from the loss of her (how could Vriska understand, even when Kanaya had loved her she had never cared, even when she loved she was selfish, couldn’t she act less like brat when Kanaya wasn’t even _hers_ ) and Dirk of all people trying to talk to her about it. She hadn’t wanted to talk, and Aranea had been dragged with Vriska. Aranea was already acting unhappily, of course – after the things she had done, there had been some hostility, and the people she cared for were slowly leaving.

Meenah had sulked, of course.

That had left Dave, John, Jade, Karkat, Aradia, Sollux, Terezi, Gamzee, Rose herself, and Feferi from the younger ones, and while Aradia, Jade and Feferi were mostly chilled out, the rest were a volatile mix. Dave couldn’t get near Karkat for Gamzee; Karkat wouldn’t always want to talk to John; Karkat and Gamzee were wary and hurting around each other; Sollux kept picking fights with Karkat; Terezi and Gamzee were still sniping at each other with what seemed like platonic hate, not touching each other but spitting bitter words every time they got bored; things were awkward between Dave and Terezi, Dave and Jade and even between Sollux and Feferi; and even more little dramas that arose as the days went by. They had reached an ocean after a fraught couple of weeks, and Feferi and Meenah had said their goodbyes, diving in. Rose had spotted a village along the coastline a little way away, shocked by the apparent civilisation, and the group had looked at each other in a certain way.

The plan they made was a simple one. Dave, John, Jane, and Dirk would head for the coastal town. They would try and get themselves established there. Jake wanted to head back into the jungle they had been slogging through, given that it was marvellous and even if people were to search, they probably couldn’t find you, and that it was an easy place to be remote. Jade had opted to join him for a day or two, and then they would go their separate ways – Jade had wanted to see if she could look more at the new plants, and her eyes had shone at the thought. Sollux wanted to go off on his own, joking about there being no computers yet in this stupid new world, although the fire in his eyes suggested that his excuse was…watered down, to say the least. They pretended not to know that he would be searching for Eridan, and Aradia had hugged him tightly, the two almost giving off real diamonds. Rufioh had a hankering to build a new place for himself to live in the trees, sheepishly mumbling that he didn’t really have anyone else now to look out for. Meulin and Kurloz wanted to head towards the mountains, so that they could be alone and so Meulin could find a new cave to live in. She’d been already acting a little feral just by walking through the jungle, and she said she might find Nepeta and Equius there, and her certainty had been a good thing to see. Karkat had called them all manner of names under the sun, but when Gamzee had offered that they should go together, he had simply stated he couldn’t, not just yet, and hugged him as tight as Aradia had hugged Sollux. Dave had then offered that Karkat should go with them, and Karkat had looked at him with red tears in his eyes, nodding. Gamzee had smiled very slowly, almost peacefully, and said he might as well keep travelling and see what sort of things he could find. Sollux had, as a parting gift, figured out how to set up a message board using their old devices and their new power, a mixture, he had said wryly, of science and magic. Mituna and Latula had then expressed a want to travel with Gamzee, much to everyone’s surprise, and Gamzee’s genuine delight, although he tried to stifle his smiles. Karkat had fiercely told Latula and Mituna both to take care of him, and Terezi had simply cackled, telling Rufioh that if he didn’t mind it, she wanted a house like her old one, pronto, and no funny business. He’d stared and nodded quietly, and she had whacked him over the head with her cane, telling him that she couldn’t actually see his stupid face, but she could tell he was an idiot enough to nod. They’d laughed, and Rose had decided to go into the darker jungle, where she might be alone. She’d went in, Aradia smiling at her as she stepped into the shadows of the dark trees.

She had told what had happened at the beginning to the people she had found. They were humans and trolls, desperately huddled in their dwellings, with a hut specifically for eggs where the dams would snarl should anyone enter. They had quieted as she stepped in, and she had stayed with them for a long while, protecting them and being their champion. There were descendants all over the globe, now, she knew, but no pure descendants. They had become mixed in, as everything had.

She remembered seeing the grubs wandering here and there while their dams chased after them, and she had picked one up gently, petting it softly and calming it. It was a fair job, trying to keep track of a grub. This grub had been named Flores, for its delicate health, she supposed, but the mother had brought it back every day to the temple Rose had built herself, although it was simply a marble hut with a flat roof. Flores each day had been deposited with Rose, and had cocooned itself within the temple. Rose had sat on the soft leaves that had to belong to Alternia, for not even Jade had seen the like of the plants that grew near the tribe (Jade’s apparition at Rose’s request had amazed the growing population, and although they had embarrassingly enough carved Rose’s likeness several times or made tiny statues, a few of Jade had begun to appear after that), watching until Flores emerged, blinking sleepily at her. She had, she supposed, made quite the pet of him, and one of the things that had saddened her was seeing an ‘artifact’ being labelled _Younger Goddess of Quartz with Unknown Child_. He had come to sit with her each day, being brought back by his mother. He’d sat with her as she talked of the Game, of what this world was like. Of everyone else, and of Kanaya.

He had asked to meet Kanaya when he was six sweeps old, and the jadeblood had appeared as though she had always been there, blinking slowly at Rose, and dressed in dark silk robes, before seeing the child staring at her, and seating herself next to Rose, taking the child on her lap. Flores had been a favourite of theirs, and they had stood next to his mother, a hand on each shoulder, when he had, like all the others, gone into the forest at seven sweeps old. Rose had been surprised when Flores returned, three sweeps later, holding the hand of Roxy, who had smiled widely at her, waving shyly.

“We…I found your sister, my Lady. She looks like you, I see.” His tongue stumbled over the words, and he was hesitant, but Roxy and Rose were already hugging.

And it was several lifetimes ago. Rose opened her eyes, looking up as Roxy’s hand landed softly on her shoulder.

“You okay, Rosey?” she asked softly, swaying with a giggle, unfocused. Rose sighed and smiled, waving her hand a little. A small spell to ensure no hangover.

“You’ll be better than me once you go to sleep, Roxy.” She stood up, closing the small box she was holding.

She’d never asked what Roxy had done when she disappeared. She didn’t want to, didn’t need to. Dave had once told her that he expected Rose to go with them, to just go along with them, and that he’d missed her. He’d been drunk at the time, and had said several other things while so deeply intoxicated that she had enough dirt on him to keep him from being too much of an annoyance for at least another century. She guided Roxy through the godly halls that Jade, Porrim and Kanaya had combined their skills to make for each set of gods. Collapsing into a pink bed that seemed to consist entirely of fluff, Roxy mumbled her thanks into the pillow, as Rose closed the door, memories still drifting around her head.

 

====>

Aradia watched everyone walk away, all those years ago, and her past self stepped into the shadows where she stood.

“I knew it. Something’s happened, hasn’t it?” The younger Aradia looked at her and grinned. “Is it going to be fun?”

“You have to wait!” Aradia giggled. “It’s a long, long dance, but one of them is missing. And the mystery of it is making me giddy. But Sollux will need taking care of. I’m finding out a timeline.”

“Eridan’s?” Her younger self did not sound surprised, instead smiling warmly.

She nodded, and the grinding of gears filled the air for a split second before she was gone, disorientated again. She’d had to go back so she could check which way they had gone, but had misjudged the first time. This was now where she needed to be, and on cue, the trees rustled as someone passed by her. Shrinking into the shadows, she heard footsteps, two pairs, and saw white wings being followed by purple, Eridan occasionally turning to glare at Cronus, Aradia taking good note of the tension between them. Something seemed to be wrong here, something off in the way they were not talking, the way in which they kept looking at each other surreptitiously. She watched Eridan and Cronus walk through the woods, not talking, to where a lake was, a few tents by it, which they avoided, Eridan slipping into the water of the lake almost immediately.

“Hey, be careful, chief!” Cronus scolded, and Eridan snorted, wings curling about him slowly, contempt clear on his face.

“W-Why don’t you just fuck off, Cro?” he hissed at him, letting himself relax into the water, closing his eyes. Aradia blinked, sensing the intimate air about the scene. Cronus was watching him with that same tenderness, sitting near him on the rocks, hand hovering over Eridan’s hair, moving to rest in the air above his shoulders, moving to trace the air above his wings, as Eridan’s eyes stayed closed. As he opened his eyes again, Cronus snatched his hand back, looking innocent as Eridan glared at him, the wet robes he was wearing drying instantly as he pulled himself up onto the rocks beside Cronus. He bit his lip a couple of times, Cronus watching him with a strange look on his face.

“W-Why?” Eridan asked again, and Cronus smiled slowly at him, Eridan flushing and earfins flaring under that smile, twitching his fins in that certain way that was like a second language to seadwellers. Aradia knew a few basics, from the ghosts of seadwellers she had sometimes talked to. She didn’t know what they were talking about, but there was a softness in both of their expressions as they looked at each other, and Eridan relaxed further as Cronus pressed a kiss to his cheek, but pulled away.

“I don’t get you. Carrying a torch for…for him, and pullin’ this shit.” His face was steadily turning purple.

“I can carry more than one torch. It’s a bit of bad luck that it’s vwithin my abilities.”

“Hoofbeastshit. You just don’t want to be alone.” Eridan’s wings closed around him and he looked unhappy, but Cronus just smiled and pulled him close.

“Neither do you. Eridan, c’mon. Don’t make me sing to you.”

A giggle. An actual giggle, Aradia realised, as she stared from her hiding place, as Eridan unfolded his wings and turned to lean into Cronus with his eyes closed, Cronus stroking through his hair slowly, humming gently.

“You suck,” Eridan tried, and laughed and hit Cronus’ arm when Cronus wiggled his eyebrows. “Not like that! Like…W-we both know-w how-w this w-will end, and you’re letting me do this anyw-way. W-we do this, and it lasts forewer. W-we can’t put it behind us easily at all. W-we’re going to end up heartbroken, Cro, if w-we fall for each other. You lowe Kankri, I know-w you do.” He did not even sound upset by the fact, as though he’d already accepted it.

“Lovwe you too.” Cronus hugged Eridan tighter. “I knovw vwhat you mean, though. You’re carryin’ torches. So am I. But vwe can forget it for the moment. The point of being happy novw an’ all that. Just let yourself enjoy something for once in your life, Eri.” He caressed Eridan’s back slowly. “Let me enjoy bein’ vwith you, too, okay? You’re alvways goin’ to havwe me here.”

There was real feeling in his voice, and Eridan moved to brush his lips against Cronus’, softly sighing. The noise said everything he didn’t need to, and Aradia let time pull her back from the scene, mind racing.

There weren’t two people dancing here. Not just Eridan and Sollux. There was Eridan, Sollux, Cronus…and Kankri. Of course. When Kankri had left, it was out of hurt, not out of boredom. Kankri had never been that secure, even in the hundreds of years that they had been here. Kankri was the next person to look at, and quickly.

====>

Dirk was quieter than normal as he worked on one of his projects, Dave realised, and he tilted his head, studying…Well, his brother, to save arguments. There was a tightness to his mouth, and Dave cleared his throat.

“What exactly has your knickers in a twist, big bro?” Dave asked eventually, and Dirk clenched his fists and sighed.

“Love sucks, Dave. That’s what. They sort their shit out because they’ve got such short lives, and we think it’s all fine, but we are all fucking up in some way or another. And that shit about a red string is exactly that. It’s shit.”

Dave stared. “Did something happen with you and Captain Adventure Pants?”

“No! No, nothing happened. We’re good. I was just…deep thinking. I mean, can you imagine being in love with two people, and not even knowing it? Or knowing it, and not knowing what to do? Or being in love with someone who loves you, but who also loves someone else?” He starts tapping a screwdriver against the table in a sharp beat. “It must be all sorts of different kinds of hell.”

Dave hummed. “Well, if you mean me and TZ and all that different stuff that happened, I’m over it –“

“Not different quadrants, Dave. The same one. How would you even handle it, even if no one knew? If both of you were in love, but also in love with other people?” Dirk wasn’t even looking at him, and Dave looked worried.

“I’m taking a wild guess and saying you got a prayer that kind of made you freak out?”

“Something like that. It’s—I can’t solve every problem. I mean, I could, but it would be the wrong way to solve it. I’m…I can’t even begin to comprehend it, but even the merest bit of that feeling would drive me up the wall.”

“Hey, I bet you have better answers than if they had gone to Meulin or Nepeta. You can see all the problems with shit, Dirk. And we don’t have to answer _every_ prayer.”

Dirk folded the arms of his shades as he took them off, closing his eyes before opening them again to look at Dave, worrying his lower lip with his teeth.

“But I need to answer this one. You need to understand, I have to answer this one, or otherwise everything could fall apart.”

Dave stared at him for a minute. “You cannot be seriously pulling this shonen shit on me. No. I am not listening to your shit right now, Dirk, you do not get to go all ‘I am the chosen one, desu desu,’ on me right now. Forget it. Don’t you dare try and do this. You have other stuff to do, okay? And don’t give me any bullshit about not knowing what I’m on about, because you were there when John had the stupid idea. Although I think the more stupid idea was letting him be the leader of the gods. Seriously, it amazes me that we do not have to worship his movies. If he hadn’t grown out of liking him, I would have put all my boonbucks on giant statues of Nick Cage everywhere.”

Dirk made an annoyed noise, flicking a washer ring off the table. “Why can’t you pick a kid for me? I hate children. Really, babies creep me out like nobody’s business.” He looked up sharply as soon as the words left his mouth. “I – Look, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yeah, you’re just not good with children. I went through being raised by your alternate self, Dirk, but all you have to do is throw an omen, talk to this kid, and just don’t throw them off a roof, or throw smuppets at them, or psychologically screw them up. All I ask. Don’t make me have to get involved.”

“Rest assured, I will continue not to be your ‘Bro’ as I’ve done for fucking centuries, Dave.” Dirk swatted Dave’s ear. “Can Porrim come with me? Because, you know, again, not good with children?”

“Yeah, you ask her. Stress how bad you are with children, and then she might even give you a few tips on how to not be a complete ass about everything. Don’t mope about the prayer. Focus on the fact that you need to make this child part of the next lot of gods. Okay?”

“Yeah. Focus on my Descending. Got it.” Dirk looked guilty for a minute, and Dave frowned at him.

“Do you know something I don’t?” he asked slowly, and Dirk nodded.

“I know a lot of things you don’t, brother mine. I know how to make different alcohol mixtures, and how to make robots.” Dirk grinned slowly at him. “And if you bug me about what you want to know, Dave, I will explain step by step to you how to make one. Very slowly.”

“Please. Spare me.” Dave looked at Dirk suspiciously. “I think you might know about a project of mine, Dirk.”

“Might be so. If that’s the truth, Dave, Aradia will be telling you what I know quite shortly.” Dirk clicked his fingers, vanishing with the faint sound of a heartbeat. Dave whistled lowly.

“Damn if I know how he knows _that._ ”

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Remember to fear possibility.**

_\- Ancient Rust proverb._

Equius groaned as he sat up, rubbing at his head before looking to his lap, where a young girl was curled, yawning, with her pigtails wrapped in ribbons and a smear of chocolate on her cheek. He stared in blank horror, trying to remember last night, before sighing in relief. Nothing of _that sort_ had occurred. She’d been talking to him about her sister, who worked in Nepeta’s shrine. They’d been huddled, drunkenly talking, away from the partying. One of the good things about the Mutiny House was that they were trained in all the good parts of a party - and this girl had been a good person to talk to, naturally. Almost as good as talking to Roxy herself.

Not as good as Nepeta, though. No one else could ever be like his dearest pale one. She was the person he could talk to like he could talk to no one else, the one who understood and accepted him, brought him down to earth. He moved the girl to lean against the wall, groaning again at his headache. Roxy had the best alcohol, but the best alcohol always brought the worst headaches. Always, without fail. He snapped his finger impatiently, feeling it lift, and doing the same for the sleeping girl, covering her with the jacket he had initially been wearing. She had dedicated her life to Miss Lalonde, otherwise Equius might just have talked to her about being a priestess. Well, it would have to not be so.

A giggle had him spinning around. Only he and Roxy were awake, and she was perched in her ladylike way on the back of the sofa, dressed in something floaty and pink, looking like she had popped straight out of a painting of luxury. An empty chocolate wrapper in her lap might have spoiled the effect, but heightened it slightly. She’d always been elegant, he remembered.

“It’s been one hell of a night, Equibabe. Jus’ look at my aftermath.” She seemed unperturbed by the amounts of bites that showed up on the skins of all those scattered about. Most were pitch couples, slumped near each other, with bites and scratches everywhere, some still sluggishly bleeding, and Equius narrowed his eyes. Like he didn’t know what that meant.

“He was here, Miss Lalonde. He was here, in my city. You know I could never have approved—“

Roxy held up a hand to stop him speaking, and he hated that it worked. “Your city, sure. But it’s my party, and my house. I invite who I want, that’s our agreement, Eq-Zak. Gam-Kara is good for keeping a party going-“

“He’s a murderer! I could never forgive him!” Equius strode over to her, fists clenching in anger, and she shrugged softly, deliberately, as if to say that she couldn’t care either way. When she knew that Gamzee had killed Nepeta, had clubbed her death after strangling Equius. The memory of the string tightening around his throat had him gulping, feeling like he might throw up. Not that it would be strange, after a party, but he refused to back down in any way. His moirail had been left to bleed out by that piece of shit. Roxy rolled her eyes.

“It’ll be a long rivalry, then. If you ain’t up to our agreements, you don’t have to come to the parties. And red isn’t the only important quad. Y’all know that. Bet the only reason you don’t enter black is ‘cause it reminds you of himself, right? He’s the biggest contender for your spade. Tell me, what’s worse? That it might be him manipulating you into it like he tried with Terazzledazzle or that it would be your own feelings?” She knocked back something purple and alcoholic that appeared in her hand, and the colour had Equius fuming.

“I think I should leave,” he said coldly, and Roxy simply laughed softly, the smile on her smudged lips not reaching her eyes as she kept drinking.

“If you think, Equibabe, then follow your heart. I ain’t goin’ to stop you. You leave whenever you want.” She snapped her fingers and he blinked, finding himself back in his temple, not a party goer in sight, instead only his old priest, traditional long hair falling around his face as he slept.

Well, he might have been meditating. But he was snoring as he did so. And Equius knew the man was getting old. He was a human, so his lifespan was at best that of the lower castes. Roxy could have placed him outside, let his priest wake up, but she had clearly not wanted to do anything of the kind, instead choosing to do this. He knew she had been to see Horuss, he’d felt her presence flicker.

Well, let them scheme. He would not go back to that house of foolishness until Roxy apologise to him. He would not even speak with that- with- with _that woman._

And in Mutiny House, Roxy vanished back to her halls, where the sunlight of the real world shone through the window. Waking up back at her halls had been a nice surprise, but the one rule of parties was that you checked what needed clearing up.

How did you stop everything falling into its predetermined place? You couldn’t. But sometimes Roxy felt like pushing it into place. When Equius finally got that stick out of his stupid posterior, he might be more fun. He had relaxed last night, but for now, she would be, she suspected, conveniently blamed. He never could blame himself except for that one incident, the root of his hatred for Gamzee. Perhaps it was a testament to his deep pale feelings for Nepeta that he would not give in to the caliginous side of his loathing, but even Nepeta had become tired of Equius’ ‘beastshit’, as she had put it. Half the time their feelings jams were about how much he hated Gamzee, and as she rightly said, it had been centuries since that had happened.

Maybe this was the shove Equius needed.

 

Cedric stirred, groaning, and immediately tasted blood in his mouth, making a confused noise as he wiped his mouth. His mouth was so _sore._ It was like somebody had punched him, but without the ache to his gums or a bruise. His mouth was even swollen, and he blinked as his lips touched them, hissing in slight pain, seeing white on his fingers. Face paint.

Oh, gods above and the Lady herself. The Ragemaker, he remembered now. He’d been blessed, kissed, by the god who controlled the black quadrant. His face flushed and he stood, legs wobbling, to look over to where two of the girls sat.

“Last night. Last night was…” He blinked softly and Octavi shrugged softly, the braids that went to her waist still threaded with bright beads that seemed to create little flashes of light in the now-dark room.

“A Mutiny House party. Try putting something on your lips, Ceddy. They’ll split if you’re not careful, of course.” She was applying something to her own, bathing them in pink. Beside her, Amylle struggled to keep awake. Cedric blinked around again. He’d painted up Antone last night, and now a boy who looked somewhat familiar (little curved horns, so probably the boy who Antone had been flirting with who delivered chocolates) was draped over him on the second biggest sofa.

There was hardly anyone awake. Madalyn certainly was not, face down on the floor like so many others, and there seemed to be a lot of different spades couples. The Lady was not in sight, so she must have left earlier. A few dozen chocolate wrappers and a dropped shot glass where he had last seen her before passing out was the only hint that she had been here.

To see the two gods dancing had been amazing. He was glad to have lasted long enough to see them dance like that, the Ragemaker, the Lady, and the Inheritor, each fantastic from years and years beyond what he himself would live. Like eternal lights, the untouchable creatures they were. Elise yawned from her corner, and blinked softly, before wincing as a headache took a firm hold, as did hunger. “Cedric. Be a dear and fetch me some breakfast, would you?”

“I think we’re out of all kinds of food,” Amylle murmured. “At one point, Madalyn and Miaksi raided the kitchen and started some sort of concoction game. There’s no bread left at all. Why don’t you and Ced get dressed and go out for breakfast?”

Elise rolled her eyes, and Octavi giggled, starting to undo her braids. Most of the girls had gone for braids after Roxy had braided Madalyn’s hair. Cedric helped Elise up, picking up the beautiful jacket draping her and folding it over his arm.

“Elise, we can kill Miaksi and Maddie later. Right now, I need to wash off….well, most of my body, and I want to be gone before Madalyn wakes up and kills _me_ for clogging the drain.” He was pretty sure that the Inheritor had been wearing this jacket when he danced last night, and he let his fingers run over the silky material in envy as he and Elise made their way up the stairs.

Mutiny House was, in a word, decadent. Elise wandered into her room, and he grabbed a few nice clothes from his room and dropped the Younger Sagittarius’ coat on her bed, twirling into her shower and starting the hot water running. The multi-coloured swirls dripped down his body to swirl in an unattractive sludgy colour in the drain, and he sighed as the hot water began to relax his muscles. He luckily did not get too much of a hangover, only a small headache that could be easily put aside – in this house, you learnt to deal with them. Parties were their religion, and there were those in the house who had never left. Humans, living as they did to the age of green or blue blooded trolls, would even in their most elderly states stay on. Cedric loved to hang out with Angie, who would create the most amazing music, despite being around forty five sweeps old.

Yes, if you lived here, hangovers ceased to be an issue. As a teal, Cedric had that time available to him, and his ten sweeps stood him in good stead. Parties were enjoyed here, truly. He mused more on how even though dancing was something some could not do, those some would still manage the drinks and food, would still arrange and listen to music. Most of those above the age of twenty sweeps had retreated last night at the appearance of the Ragemaker, which brought Cedric back to earth from any cloudy thoughts, a flush building on his cheeks. The kiss, as he remembered it, had been gentle in its way. Not that quadrants were an option to a god, who had the other gods around him, but his heart beat fast. An effect of the kiss? Most likely.

Which meant it was a blessing. But not in the red quadrants, no. That was the Younger Cancer’s reserved quadrant.

Cedric sighed softly. He didn’t know what to do about this, this feeling. This unrest.

“Hey, Ceddy, you’re clean, get out of the hot water.” Elise knocked on the glass, closing her eyes and holding a towel. If he said his pale crush was on anyone, it would be Elise, kind, round Elise with her brown eyes and sweet smile. Quadrants were hard for him, what with the fact that he had simply never indulged other than a kiss here or there. He’d prayed for the fate to choose him soon, but nobody could properly start their quadrants with a spade. A blessing meant that your quadrant was near, and he knew exactly who his caliginous feelings swirled towards. But a spade needed to be balanced with the flushed side of the square; a heart or diamond to match the spade. The last thing he wanted was for Elise to be pulled into clubs with him and…

Denebe fucking Kliauw. The stupid devotee of the Huntress who referred to him as ‘the party pet’ when he saw him. They hissed at each other, Denebe because he disliked Cedric, Cedric to mock Denebe’s stupid meowbeast sounds. He stepped out and looked away as he wrapped his towel around him, letting her get to the shower before slipping into the light shirt and jacket, and the light pink trousers he favoured for the colour they shared with the Lady.

Elise would not be his auspistice. He needed to rein it in, and besides, he would be careful not to see Denebe. He’d stop whatever it was they had going on. Oh, why a blessing? Why a gentle, heartfelt blessing?

Elise stepped out quickly, and shooed him out of her room, grinning, and he stepped out with a sigh. It wasn’t fair, not at all. Not in the slightest!

They chattered as they walked, nonsensical things, before stopping at a bakery that was close enough to the Huntress’ shrine to make Cedric nervous, and he grabbed a pastry, dropping the coins needed with the shopkeeper.

“Elise, I’m sorry, I forgot something I need to do…I…The Lady of Bright Shadows, her shrine. I must go and pay tribute. She is our Lady’s sister. The Luckseer.” He ate as he walked, fast, and Elise gaped a little, before paying for her food and hurrying after him.

“Have you not gone earlier this week, Ced? I….the Huntress, I must…I and the Younger Sagittarius talked last night, I wanted to visit my sister.” She gestured behind them, and he shook his head quickly.

“You go. I must pay tribute to the Luckseer – Elise, please.”

Elise sighed softly. “Fine. I’ll go. Have fun praying with our cousins.” She was obviously huffy as she left, and he hurried away quickly. No, not to the Luckseer’s shrine. He’d been a few days ago, and he didn’t wish to hang around and be a nuisance. He knew where he must go.

The Elder Cancer’s small temple was dusty, and the soft chants that had been passed down through the years echoed like a song around the white walls of its interior. It had made his skin itch to pass through the main door, and a red-robed priestess greeted him in the soft, lilting voice that all those who worshipped thoroughly the Elder Cancer employed. It was as discomfiting as always.

“My young one, what do you require?”

“I require guidance. I have been blessed by the Ragemaker last night, on an empty square.” He whispered it, and the lady’s eyes went momentarily wide, and she ushered him through a door, to where an elderly priestess waited, skin like paper. None of the liveliness of Angie graced her face; she looked withdrawn, locked in her body. He sat down in front of her.

“We turn away no one.” She looked up at him with ice blue eyes, and the younger priestess leant to whisper in her ear. Now, some sort of liveliness entered her. Her expression turned hard, eyes like flecks of diamond or glass, sharp, hard, dangerous.

“What an irresponsible god he has always been. Not to criticize, but it seems this has been unutterably stupid. Do you not have a balance in mind?”

He looked to the side. “Her sister works at the temple where…where someone who I seem to be in a caliginous courtship with is a devotee. She might get pulled into things in a darker way than I would want with the two of us. He surely would not mind it, of course.” No, Denebe would fucking love it – he’d love everything to crash around them. His heart clenched and he suppressed a growl; the priestess, thankfully, didn’t seem to notice.

“And then you would be unbalanced. Well, you have come to this place instead of any other for a reason. Abstinence is not one way forward, but a method employed by our god. He, like any other, has locked his feelings away completely. You must bear a partial lock. Have no contact with this one who tugs at your spade. Cloister away from him, claim sickness, use every trick in the book until we summon our god and his counterpart. Centuries of captured wisdom always pay off. If you wish to claim sanctuary here, you may, but I feel as though you may not.” She waited, and he nodded.

“I serve my Lady.” He tugged his shoulder free of both shirt and jacket to show the little cat tattooed there, and the woman nodded slowly.

“Of course. Well, we must wait, my young one. You must be kept away, and I cannot help but feel that being here would be best for the time being. Summoning your Lady may be the way forward, but giving the news and letting them sort it seems to be the way forward. Red does not just mean love. It can mean anger more than black can.”

The jadeblood hurried off to send word, and Cedric bowed his head. Elise would surely realise that he was not at home when she returned, but she adored her sister, and often the tea party which was a ceremony offered by the shrine of the Huntress would drag out while they talked of whatever had been happening. Denebe himself enjoyed them, and he gasped at the dark scorn that went through him at that.

“Keep him from your thoughts!” A slap stung his cheek, and she glared at him as he looked up. “I am not the Priestess of Forbidden Subjects for nothing. I must ever be on guard. I may be old, my boy, but I am sharp, and you will not think of him.”

“You slap well,” he offered, and her lips twitched.

“How like you. Cleona!” A red-robed girl appeared, and the old human priestess gestured to Cedric. “Take him to my rooms. We must hide him. The gods are involved.” A few words, but they got the point across; Cleona took him by the arm and gently steered him, and he walked quickly with her, until they reached a series of white rooms at the very back of the temple. Sparse, as all rooms of those who served the Elder Cancer were rumoured to be. A hard white chair was offered, and he sat down. Cleona bowed, and whirled out.

In times of trouble, a temple of the Elder Cancer was your last refuge. They preached kindness, and acceptance, but they also took absolutely no shit. Things could always be worse, they said.

And it was hard to imagine worse than this situation, for him.

 

Dirk sighed as he pushed a screw around the table with one finger.

As the years had gone by, some group had dubbed him and Dave the Stoics. It was said that when you had a secret you could not bear, you could send the secret to them, the safest place to share it in the universe. Of course, there had been disturbing ones, but the situation could then be resolved in most cases.

Dave would get a few secrets here and there that disturbed him, but Dirk was the one personal problems would be sent to more often. Over the years more and more personal questions had come through, secrets to do with the heart.

_Keep my secret. When I was young, I was with egg and lost them._

_Keep my secret. I am flushed for my sister’s moirail._

_Keep my secret. I am still caliginous for my old kismesis._

_Keep my secret. I no longer flush my matesprit._

And so on. He’d always managed to solve them some way or other, and to assuage the grief of the unfixable.

But this was not a prayer secret. This was the secret of two gods that would cause outrage should it be known. There was always a way to tell what had happened, always a way to find out what had really gone on, and in some cases, it was very hard to hide certain signs of what somebody had been through.

And as much as he hated Cronus, if he died then there would be an imbalance in power. They had to know as much, had to realise that not everything was solvable by punching your way out of it. He and Jake had had to sit back and wait until the both of them were ready to enter into their previous relationship, until they could move past what had happened. They’d needed to talk, something Jake had learnt to be good at. They couldn’t strife their way past it, like Dirk was used to doing. Like Jake was happy to do.

And Cronus thought a few kisses, a few touches, a night or two spent together would help Eridan move past it. Even so, Sollux was raging, according to Latula, who’d been to visit Dirk lately. He was hung up on who Eridan had been, who he might have been had nothing happened. Eridan wasn’t like that so much anymore. Everyone had been changed by immortality. Damara no longer wanted to punish her friends for what had happened, Cronus wasn’t hung up on Mituna, and Kankri no longer gave long speeches out of the blue. He watched, waited, patient and almost locked away.

And now Dirk knew that his suspicions as to why with the last one were correct, thanks to Eridan. Eridan, poor Eridan, who had been through what no one else had. Dirk would visit the place Eridan had told him about, and see if there was a way to fix this. No one else could know. They’d always viewed the Amporas as dangerous, and this might send them bats. Into hyper drive, as it were. He held the screw up.

He wished he could share the situation with Rose, but he could not. There wasn’t really a way to solve this by sharing, of course. He stepped forward, appearing into the chapel, where Eridan was stood by the altar, the orange sunshine of the afternoon in Rust casting a soft glow on his spread wings, white robes brushing the ground. He turned around at the soft footsteps, and Dirk held out his hand.

“Will Cronus use this as a scheme? Tell me the truth, Eridan. I’m the Keeper of Secrets.” He waited for the other to come close, and Eridan slowly stepped to him, halting a few steps away and taking his hand.

“Don’t let him be a part of this, Dirk. I mean, Strider, I mean…” He trailed off, and Dirk clasped his hand tighter.

“I won’t. But you know Cronus, he makes bad decisions. I say you choose him. Go and take him back, Eridan. My halls are yours to hide in. Dave and Aradia will find out soon enough, you know. Save yourself the trouble. You’ll be blamed by the one you don’t want to be blamed by if you don’t sort this out. Come _with_ me.”

Eridan nodded, and a cloak draped over his head and wings as Dirk took off his glasses, a similar cloak draping over him as he walked with him, out of that stuffy chapel where the heavy air pressed down upon them, Eridan breathing in as the fresh air brushed his gills.


End file.
